


i hear this heartbeat break in two

by exbeekeeper



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Feelings Realization, M/M, Pining, Temporarily Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27173098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exbeekeeper/pseuds/exbeekeeper
Summary: Fox interrupts him. “It has come to my attention that I am in love with you,” he says, heart-stoppingly sincere.Ryuji feels himself go red to the tips of his ears. “Huh?!” he exclaims.Fox, infuriatingly, shrugs. “I love you, Skull.” He stands, tugs on his gloves – a habit he’d picked up from Joker – and turns. “Queen,” he says, “have you any energy left? I believe I would benefit from a diarahan.”(or: Yusuke confesses, Ryuji doesn't know how to deal, and Ann is the MVP.)
Relationships: Sakamoto Ryuji & Takamaki Ann, Sakamoto Ryuji/Kitagawa Yusuke
Comments: 35
Kudos: 194





	i hear this heartbeat break in two

**Author's Note:**

> i'm... really proud of this one, actually? i think it came out really well & does exactly what i wanted it to do, so i hope you enjoy <3
> 
> title comes from gimmie love by carly rae jepsen!!

The fight is, admittedly, something of a blur for Ryuji after that Cerberus’ agidyne knocks Fox to the ground. His vision clouds and the anger burns white-hot through him, so quickly he’s a little worried it’s a Rage effect, but Oracle doesn’t seem overly concerned, so this is probably just the regular old anger. Anger classic. 

Whatever. Ryuji hits the shadows as Joker directs him to until the last one falls and then he’s dropping to his knees in front of Fox before he’s even really thought about it. Fox blinks up at him, lips just slightly parted, cheeks still flushed from the heat of the blast. Ryuji all but manhandles him into sitting up and then starts digging around in his backpack for bandages. He can feel Fox’s gaze on him.

“Oh,” Fox says, something like wonder in his voice. “ _Oh._ ” 

Ryuji looks over at him at that. “You okay?” Fox only blinks, still staring at Ryuji, still with that look in his eyes. Ryuji flushes. “D- dude. Do I have somethin’ on my face?” 

Fox shakes his head vehemently. “I am quite alright. I apologize for my strange behavior.” 

“S’alright,” Ryuji says. “We’re used t–” 

Fox interrupts him. “It has come to my attention that I am in love with you,” he says, heart-stoppingly sincere. 

Ryuji is so startled by the declaration that he stumbles backward, falls clean on his ass on the gross floor of Mementos. He stares dumbly at Fox, whose eyes are set in determination. Distantly he can hear Panther coughing like she’s just choked on her soda. The others are deathly silent in a way they never are naturally, a way that just screams _eavesdropping_.

Fox is still watching him. Ryuji feels himself go red to the tips of his ears. “Huh?!” he exclaims, sitting back up. 

Fox, infuriatingly, shrugs. “I love you, Skull.” He stands, tugs on his gloves – a habit he’d picked up from Joker – and turns. “Queen,” he says, “have you any energy left? I believe I would benefit from a diarahan.” 

Queen is a bit red in the face – shit, he’d really just said that in front of everyone – but she nods. “Of course, Fox.” She guides Fox to sit next to the Monabus and gets to work. Ryuji stares after them dumbly. 

Something grabs his elbow, dragging him backwards, away from Yusuke. “Wh– _hey!_ ” he squawks. 

Panther pushes him into the nearby wall and pokes him in the chest with a disapproving frown. “What the hell was that?” she hisses. 

Ryuji’s face heats up. “I dunno what you mean,” he mutters. 

She scoffs at him. “That was a _confession._ He _confessed_. And you stood there gaping at him like a fish!” 

“Hey! Cut me some slack here.” Ryuji rubs the back of his neck. “That was an effed-up confession. Out in Mementos in front of everyone?! And he seemed as surprised as I was about it!” 

Panther rolls her eyes. “Yeah, but it’s _Fox_. That’s just how he is, he’s never gonna be any different.” 

“Y– yeah, and there’s nothin’ _wrong_ with that, but –”

“But?” Panther raises an eyebrow. 

Ryuji groans. “It’s just – what the hell was I _supposed_ to say? _Thanks, that’s real flattering_?”

“Oh.” She squints at him. “So you don’t– okay.” 

“What?” Ryuji feels defensive, though he isn’t really sure why. “I don’t what?” 

Panther sighs. “It’s different if you don’t feel the same way as him, is all. I thought you did.” She glances back at Fox and Queen, who are deep in conversation with Oracle, heads bent close together, and then back to Ryuji, gaze like steel. “We’re not done talking about this,” she declares. “Come on.” 

When they rejoin the group, Joker claps his hands together and announces they’re done in Mementos for the afternoon. Ryuji tries to clear his mind as the Monabus carts them back, but his gaze can’t stop drifting over to Fox. 

Fox, who’s fallen asleep with his head on Oracle’s shoulder. Oracle looks over at Joker and mouths _help_ ; Joker grins and puts a finger to his lips. Ryuji can’t look away. Fox – Yusuke – has taken off the mask and holds it in his lap. His eyelashes are long and brush against his cheeks, his mouth parted in sleep, his hair falling into his face. 

From his left, Ann elbows him in the side and gives him a meaningful look. He flushes and looks away from her. 

They leave Mementos. Ren waves goodbye to everyone with a smile. All Ryuji wants to do is get home and shower the Mementos grime off, but Yusuke calls after him, still blinking sleep from his eyes. Ryuji stops; Yusuke walks over to him, unhurried. 

“Ryuji,” Yusuke says again. Ryuji can see about half of the others pretending they’re not listening in about seven feet away, but before he can suggest they go somewhere else Yusuke speaks again. “Futaba and Makoto have informed me that I shouldn’t have blurted that out as I did. It must have made you uncomfortable. I am sorry.” 

Yusuke looks genuinely regretful, and Ryuji feels a pang. “Ah,” he says, quieter than he’d usually speak, “‘s alright, Yusuke. It’s… it makes me happy. That you feel. That way.” 

“But…” Yusuke is tentative, and aw, hell, “you don’t feel the same,” he says. 

It’s not really a question, but Ryuji shakes his head anyway, and _shit._ He hadn’t noticed the flicker of something like hope in Yusuke’s eyes until it dims in that moment. He immediately feels like a big piece of shit, but Yusuke must see something shift in Ryuji’s own expression, because he schools his face into something more neutral. 

“I see. My apologies again. But I– it is important to me that you know that you are loved, Ryuji. And I don’t see myself stopping anytime soon. So…” He looks away, tugging a bit on his bangs. _Cute_ , Ryuji thinks, and then, _what?_

Ryuji nods, his face redder than it’s probably ever been. “Uh,” he says, “thanks, man.” Yusuke nods and then stutters toward him briefly before stopping himself. It takes Ryuji a second to figure out what he was going for, but when he does he grabs Yusuke’s wrist before he can walk away. “Hey. C’mere. I don’t want you to feel like we’re not friends anymore, okay?” 

Yusuke nods, a bit self-consciously, and lets Ryuji fold him into a hug. Yusuke is taller than Ryuji, but not by as much as Ryuji himself often subconsciously thinks. Yusuke’s just so damn skinny, it makes him look much taller than he is. Yusuke’s stiff for a moment – but then, that’s sort of how he always is, like he has to remind himself he’s allowed to want to be held – and then he’s pressing his face into Ryuji’s shoulder with a sigh, winding his arms around his back. 

It’s… definitely not a bro-hug. It’s also not really an “I-just-rejected-you-but-we’re-still-good” hug. Ryuji’s not sure _what_ kind of hug it is, honestly, but he isn’t complaining; Yusuke gives the best hugs, warm and firm and electric. He lets Yusuke pull away first; Yusuke smiles his softest smile at him, hands still resting on his wrists, and then turns to go. 

Most of their friends have had the decency to scram by this point, but Futaba is leaning boredly against the brick wall of the alleyway, having long since given up pretending she’s not listening. She looks up when Yusuke walks over to her, says something Ryuji doesn’t catch. He watches the two of them disappear together into the train station. Belatedly he realizes he also needs to take a train from that station, so he screws around in the square until he’s sure they can’t possibly still be there, and then he catches a late train home.

His mom is there when he arrives, actually, which is a surprise; he’d thought she worked late that night. She kisses him on the forehead when he finds her in the kitchen and sets him to chopping vegetables for the soup she’s making.

Over dinner, she says: “You’ve been quieter than usual. Something on your mind?” 

Ryuji ducks his head. It’s… embarrassing to talk about, honestly, but if anyone’s going to know what he should do it’s his mom. “One of my friends,” he says, haltingly, “um. Confessed to me today.” 

His mom blinks at him in shock. Her spoon splashes into her bowl as she gets up and comes around the table to give him a crushing hug. He squawks at her, to little effect. 

“That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you! You have to bring them to meet me, okay?”

“No, ma, it’s – ugh. I don’t. It would never work between us. But he’s really nice, right? One of my best friends. And I don’t want… to hurt him. And I don’t want things to change between us.”

His mom sits down again, rests her chin on her hand. “Oh, Ryu,” she says. “You’re too nice for your own good, you know? I’ve always thought so. Your friend was very brave to tell you how he felt, but he’ll be okay after a while. He might need some time, but he won’t go far from you forever.”

Ryuji nods. “It just feels – bad. It’s this gross, tight feeling in my chest. Like, I hate that he’s sad because of me. I never wanted that.” His fists tremble in his lap. “But there’s nothing I can do.” 

His mom’s eyes are soft as she gazes at him. “I really did raise a winner, huh? No idea where you get all that chivalry from.” She stabs her chopsticks at him in the air. “Now c’mon, eat your vegetables.” 

Ryuji eats his vegetables. But even his mom’s reassurances can’t wipe away that awful knot in his chest. That night he lies in bed and thinks of the way Yusuke’s face had fallen, feels rotten right down to the core.

Ryuji sort of thinks that will be the end of it – the whirlwind that is the last month and a half of that year catches up to the both of them, and there isn’t really _time_ for Yusuke’s feelings to make themselves known again until it’s almost January. 

Honestly, he’d almost forgotten there were feelings to make themselves known in the first place. Yusuke doesn’t… ask anything of him, doesn’t push, not in the way you might expect from someone _in love_ , if you believe Ann’s romance films. He’s not possessive, not demanding, not wasting away. He’s the same Yusuke he always was, proud and stubborn and strange and lovely. 

But he is quieter, sometimes. Sometimes Ryuji will look back at him after Yusuke’s just made him laugh, the embarrassing one that splits his face in two, and find Yusuke just… watching him, expression caught between rapture and something close enough to hurt that it twists Ryuji’s heart. Sometimes Yusuke’s eyes will widen when Ryuji pushes too close, or his breath will catch when Ryuji sweeps him into a hug, or his face will turn red when Ryuji calls him _pretty boy_. 

All of that is… fine, really. Ryuji can’t expect him to hide every possible trace of his feelings, wouldn’t want him to even if he could. But every time it happens it makes his heart hurt. Makes him think of all the girls who’d blown him off for being too brash, too loud, too dumb, for his reputation alone, and hope desperately that isn’t how he makes Yusuke feel. It makes him think, _I wish you liked someone who likes you too._

That’s the crux of it, really: Yusuke’s a good guy. He’s pretty; Ryuji says it to tease but it’s _true_ , he’s got nicer eyelashes than Ann’s and she’ll even admit it, though she’ll grumble all the while, and his haircut would be sort of silly on anyone else but he makes it work, and the color of his eyes is – well. 

Yusuke’s pretty, okay? That’s the point here. And he’s passionate and kind and honest and he deserves someone who can love him back the way he loves them, the way he deserves: passionate and kind and honest. 

And Ryuji… can’t be that. No matter how pretty Yusuke is, Ryuji just wouldn’t be able to keep up with him. It wouldn’t work between them. Ryuji’s not… he doesn’t really _get_ all the art stuff that comes so naturally to Yusuke, that he wears like a second skin. Yusuke once tried to explain dry-brush watercolor to him and he’d scratched his head and said _Ain’t “water” in the name?_

Yusuke had laughed and laughed at that. And – yeah, it was probably pretty funny, but it had stung, too. Sometimes Ryuji wonders if they’d be able to stand each other, if they hadn’t had the solid bedrock of nearly dying together in a magical world only eight other people know about. Sometimes Ryuji wonders exactly what the hell Yusuke thinks he sees in him, because they have _nothing in common._

Case in point: Yusuke is blunt, tactless to a fault, but he’s harmless, mostly. Ryuji sometimes feels like all he does is hurt the people he cares about, without even trying. He’s normally so careful not to talk about girls, or his rejections thereby, when Yusuke is around. 

But it’s almost Valentine’s Day and he’d finally worked up the nerve to ask out Minami-san from Class B, whose pretty, glossy black hair had made him do a double-take and then walk into a glass door in front of a cackling Ann. And she’d looked at him like he was a particularly disgusting bug and said “...You’re not my type.” and just walked away from him, left him standing there while her classmates hid their snickers in their hands.

“Man,” Ryuji’s saying to Ann and Ren and Futaba, all tucked into the booth just by Leblanc’s door, “I just don’t get it. Like, before Kamoshida’s confession, I kinda understood? Like, I was just the delinquent kid who picked a fight with a teacher and got his ass kicked. But now, it’s like – do I seriously have nothin’ to offer?” 

Ann’s eyes widen; Ryuji doesn’t think anything of it. “Like, am I just super ugly? Do I smell? Ann, you’d tell me if I smelled, right?” He slumps back, glumly. “I just don’t get why it’s so hard to find someone who _wants_ me.” 

Behind him, someone clears their throat. It’s a familiar sound in a way that makes Ryuji freeze, because _shit_. He’d always been so careful not to say things like that around Yusuke. But… 

Yusuke makes his way around the booth and slides in next to Ann and Futaba. His eyes are downcast, his brow furrowed. 

“Uh,” Ryuji says. “Hey, Yusuke.” 

Yusuke looks up at him. He looks very small, there in the harsh light of the cafe, and very pale. Skinny, too, like he hasn’t been eating again, Ryuji had thought that was getting better. 

Ryuji could kick himself. 

Yusuke smiles, just a little, in a way that breaks Ryuji’s fucking heart. “Hello,” he says. 

Ann is shooting worried looks between the two of them. Ren gets up and goes to the kitchen to check on his latest fire curry monstrosity. Futaba jams her thumbs into the buttons of her handheld console. None of them throw him a bone, here, which is how Ryuji knows Akechi was right about the power of friendship all along. 

“Um. Sorry about that,” he says. He’s floundering. Shit. “I didn’t realize. You were there.” 

Yusuke waves a hand. “My fault, for not alerting you of my presence sooner. But, Ryuji, do you really…” He bites his lip, looks away. “Ah, never mind.” 

Ann says, high and nervous, “Ahah, Yusuke! You said you’d show me that painting today, ahaha! Did you remember to, um, take those pictures?” 

It’s an obvious lie. Ryuji would be willing to bet they hadn’t talked about anything of the sort. Ann must be relying on Yusuke assuming he’d forgotten. Yusuke stares at her blankly for a moment. 

“Forgive me,” he says, haltingly, “I am not sure what painting you’re referring to, but I do have several photos of my recent work, if you’d like.” 

Ann nods enthusiastically and leans around Futaba to look at the pictures on his phone. Unbidden, Yusuke starts murmuring explanations – his concept for the piece, something about the way the paint refused to lay in just the way he’d wanted it to, something about the colors. It all flies over Ryuji’s head. He tries to listen, but without the visual aids he can’t find purchase in the words, and eventually settles for letting Yusuke’s deep voice wash over him.

Ann says something, gesturing wildly, the awkwardness of her acting gone from her voice entirely as she enthuses over the composition, the violent clash of conflicting colors that melts into a gentle wave where they collide and fall, the figures at the heart of it. Ryuji understands better when it’s Ann, because she doesn’t use all the technical terminology Yusuke does; she just speaks from her heart, and Yusuke understands. 

Ryuji feels a pang in his chest. The red of the sunset through Leblanc’s windows paints Yusuke’s cheeks a rosy pink and when he looks up at Ryuji his breath catches audibly. 

“Ryuji,” he says urgently, dropping his phone to the table with a clatter. “Don’t move. You’re– _do not move_.” 

He digs around in his bag for his sketchbook frantically. Futaba makes a disgruntled noise at him when he knocks her with his elbow but he doesn’t spare her a glance. It’s obvious he’s sketching Ryuji, but Ryuji has no earthly idea why, now of all times. He hears Ann snort at them. 

Yusuke makes a frustrated sound. “Ryuji, your expression changed. Think about whatever it was you were pondering before.” 

“Uh,” Ryuji says. Okay, he thinks. Can’t be that hard. Art. Yusuke. Wishing he could talk about art with Yusuke without making a fool of himself. How it’s not just the misunderstanding of terminology, it’s the way Ryuji looks at Yusuke’s abstract paintings and doesn’t see anything but an aesthetically-pleasing mess of colors. The way it makes him feel something, every time, but nothing he can describe, nothing he can name. 

“There. That’s it, perfect. God, Ryuji.” The last few words come out as a whisper and Ryuji fights down a blush, fights to keep whatever expression had captivated Yusuke. 

Minutes pass. Finally Yusuke nods, inclines his head. “Thank you,” he says, slipping his sketchbook back into his bag. 

Ryuji sags, drops his head onto his arms on the table. “Man,” he says, “warn a guy, will ya? That was exhausting.” 

Yusuke frowns. “I apologize for the discomfort,” he says. “Inspiration waits for no one. I’m sure you understand.”

Ryuji feels his face pull tight again. That’s the problem, isn’t it? He _doesn’t_ understand. Can’t understand that. 

“So, uh,” he says, clearing his throat to dispel the awkwardness in the room, “Um. What was it that was so inspiring about that?”

“Ah,” Yusuke says, flushing. “It’s– ah.” 

“You don’t have to answer if it’s uncomfortable! Just curious, y’know?” Ryuji assures him. 

Yusuke waves him off. “No, I suppose you do have a right to know. The sun behind you cast you in such a striking light, and you had this… familiar expression on your face. Achingly familiar. It made you appear softer than you normally present yourself. That moment... I could not let it escape.” 

“Familiar?” Ryuji asks, ignoring the way his face feels on fire at Yusuke’s honesty. “Familiar how?” 

Yusuke purses his lips. “Like–”

He falters for a moment. In that moment, plates are placed in front of them; Ryuji looks up to see Ren standing there, grinning, and wonders how he’d missed his arrival back at their table. 

“Dinner,” Ren says. 

Futaba rolls her eyes. “God, finally. These losers would _not_ shut up.” Ryuji spares a moment to be embarrassed – Futaba and Ann had been _right there_ , how do they keep having conversations like this in front of everyone they know – and then digs into his curry. 

Ren slides in beside him again, nudging him over. It’s a nice evening, without all the Phantom Thief dramatics hanging over their heads anymore. Futaba kicks everyone’s asses at Luigi Car, Yusuke sketches quietly in the corner, Ann rests her head on Ryuji’s shoulder. It’s nice. Comfortable. 

As they’re all leaving late that night, Yusuke grabs his sleeve in the train station. He’s more discreet this time; probably no one notices them, since they’ve all already said their goodbyes. 

He says, “Ryuji, you know I love you.” 

“Huh? I know,” Ryuji says, then winces. “Wait, I don’t mean – not, like, _I know_ , that would be such an unbelievably shitty response, I just mean –” Yusuke’s quiet laughter stops his train of thought. For the strength Ryuji knows he carries, Yusuke looks oddly fragile like this, giggling at Ryuji in their little pocket of a crowded train station. 

“I know what you meant,” he says, amusement plain on his face. He wipes it away quickly, serious again. “But I… was serious, when I said it was important to me that you know someone loves you. Even if – if you don’t return it, that’s fine, I don’t expect that, but – how do I say it?” Yusuke looks frustrated, digs his thumb into his palm. “You are loved, Ryuji. And more importantly you’re worthy of love. If you gain anything at all from my presence in your life let it be the knowledge of that. Until someone comes along who you love as well.” 

Ryuji’s eyes sting with tears. He looks away, rubbing furiously at his eyes. “Ah, hell, man, you can’t just say shit like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Yusuke says. He looks genuinely apologetic. “I don’t mean to – if it makes you uncomfortable, I won’t mention it anymore. I just… it bothers me to know that you don’t believe yourself lovable. You are.” 

“It’s not – I’m not uncomfortable, exactly, more like… I’m sorry? Like, I want to like you back, but I –”

“Don’t apologize for that,” Yusuke says firmly. “I didn’t expect reciprocity the first time I told you and that has not changed. I just– want you to know, I suppose. Perhaps that’s selfish of me.”

“Doesn’t it hurt?” Ryuji blurts out. 

Yusuke frowns. “I like loving you, Ryuji. Even if it’s sometimes painful. More often than not, it’s – it feels good. Comfortable. It makes me happy.” 

“Oh,” Ryuji says. 

Someone bumps into Yusuke and he pitches forward, the damn beanpole. Ryuji catches him instinctively, hands firm on Yusuke’s forearms. Their faces are so close, like this. Yusuke is wide-eyed, his lips just barely parted. For a moment, everything is still. The train station around them slows. Ryuji could kiss Yusuke, here, and no one would see them and wonder why Yusuke had settled. 

Not that he’d want to. Kiss Yusuke, that is. That would be weird, since Ryuji doesn’t feel the same as Yusuke does. Even if he wants to. Which he doesn’t.

The moment breaks. Yusuke stumbles backward, breathing hard. “I’m– sorry, Ryuji. I didn’t–”

Ryuji nods. He can’t meet Yusuke’s eyes “Hey, all good,” he says, feeling like Ann trying to act. “Uh. We’ve been standing here a while, huh?” 

“Apologies,” Yusuke says, fiddling with the strap of his bag. “I didn’t mean to keep you. I’ll be off now.” 

Yusuke nods, decisively, and then turns and melts into the crowd. Ryuji doesn’t have a chance to protest, to ask what the hell just happened, even to say goodbye. 

Ryuji’s surprised when Ann corners him a few days later, though he probably shouldn’t be. She does it so slyly he doesn’t even notice it at first, just falls into step next to her as they walk into Shibuya. He’s paying for their crepes when he realizes he hadn’t actually meant to go out with her that afternoon at all. 

“Hey, wait,” he says. 

Ann raises an eyebrow. “Jeesh, that took you a while. You’re so spacey today. What’s on your mind?”

Ryuji hands her her crepe and she steers him over toward a nearby bench. “Man, I dunno. I had a– weird conversation with Yusuke a few days ago.” 

“Weird how?” 

“Like– ugh. You remember he confessed to me a few months ago?” Ann nods. “It was about that. After he overheard me in Leblanc. He was all _I want you to know someone loves you, Ryuji._ ”

“Ah, shit, I knew I forgot something! I was totally supposed to interrogate you about that and it slipped my mind.” She frowns. “I totally dropped the best-friend ball on that one, huh?” 

Ryuji shrugs. “A lot of shit happened real fast right after that. I don’t blame you for forgettin’.” 

“Well, I’ll just have to make up for it now,” she says decisively. “Ryuji, are you sure you don’t have feelings for him?” 

“Pretty sure? I mean, Ann, you’ve met us both. It’d be real hard to find two people more different than each other.”

Ann tilts her head to the side, considering. “So?”

“So – whaddaya mean, _so?_ So it’d never work! I mean, hell, I can barely keep up with his art talk as _friends!_ ” 

Ann stares at him. “I’m not asking if you think you’ll be together for the rest of time or whatever, dummy. I’m asking how you feel about him.” 

That’s… shit, Ryuji hadn’t considered that. He hadn’t let himself. Thinking about Yusuke always came hand-in-hand with the fear of failure, of rejection, of being thought of as dumb by the people he cares about. “I…”

“Think about it for a sec,” Ann says. “I’m gonna go get another crepe.” She gets up and walks away, leaving him dumbfounded on the bench. 

Ryuji looks down at his hands. He’s never liked them; they’re too squarish, rough and unpolished, the nails always bitten-down out of stress and habit. Yusuke’s hands are pretty, all long thin fingers and perfect nails despite Ryuji knowing he doesn’t do anything to take care of them. Ann painted his nails, once, a deep blue to match his hair, and it had knocked the wind out of Ryuji every time he saw them for a solid week.

_How do you feel about him?_

He pushes away the easy thoughts, the ones that insist it would never work between them, and thinks about Yusuke. The way he always says exactly what he means, no matter the consequences. The way he looks when he’s hit with a spark of inspiration, giddy and frantic. The slope of his shoulders, his willowy limbs, the deerlike uncertain grace with which he moves. 

He’s dramatic, but passionate. Tactless, but earnest. In love with Ryuji, but not expecting anything, only wanting to be near him, to let him know that he is loved. As if that’s the most important thing. And maybe to him it is. 

Shit. Ah, shit, he’s made an ass of himself, hasn’t he? 

Ann comes back a moment later, wordlessly offers him a bite of her new crepe. “So?” she says. 

“Aw, hell,” Ryuji says with a groan. “I like Yusuke.” 

Ann pumps her fist. “Yes! I knew it!” 

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Ryuji grumbles.

“So, so, so? When are you gonna tell him?” Ann looks excited, practically bouncing in her seat. 

That familiar fear stabs into Ryuji again, worse than ever now that he knows what he stands to lose. “I –”

“Hm?”

He sighs. “Ann, what I said before hasn’t changed. We’re way too different.”

Ann chews her crepe slowly. She swallows and looks at him. “Bullshit,” she says.

“What? Hey! The hell?” 

“Bullshit! I’m calling bullshit on the whole thing! Nobody wants to be with someone who’s the exact same as them and likes all the exact same things. You’d get bored in like ten minutes flat.” 

“I’m not sayin’ we should be the exact same, but Ann, we have _nothing_ in common –”

“Both Persona users,” Ann says. “Both like beef bowls, both super loyal, both really passionate about the stuff that matters to you. You’ve led similar lives, similar pasts.” She looks at him sharply, ticking the points off on her fingers as she says them. She drops her hands then and jostles his shoulder. “You both care about each other.” 

Ryuji looks away. “What if all of that’s not enough? I mean, hell, Ann, I don’t know shit about art! That’s like the most important thing to him and no matter how hard I try I just don’t _get_ it!” 

“The important thing isn’t that you get it perfectly all the time, Ryuji. The important thing is that you _try._ He’s not gonna be upset because you don’t know what Baroque means or whatever. He’ll just see it as an opportunity to spend time with you while he explains it.”

“I…” 

“I’m not saying it’ll be easy. But don’t you deserve to try? Doesn’t he?” 

Ryuji can feel the tears welling up in his eyes and he wipes them away with an embarrassingly choked-up laugh. “Yeah,” he says, “I think we do.”

Ann beams at him. 

Ryuji sits on this knowledge for another two weeks. If anyone had asked he would say he was waiting for the perfect moment, but really it just takes about that long for Ryuji to sort through his feelings, to let himself sit with them. He knows what Yusuke meant, now, when he said he liked loving Ryuji. Ryuji likes loving Yusuke, likes the way it lights up in his chest, threatens to burst out in front of everyone. 

It’s late on a Sunday night when Ryuji finally feels ready. He’s sitting next to Yusuke on the train, the city lights washing his cheeks in red and yellow, and Ryuji doesn’t think he can go another moment without having said it, so when the train stops at Inokashira Park he, impulsively, grabs Yusuke’s hand. 

“Let’s get out here for a bit,” he says in response to Yusuke’s startled glance. “I wanna see the lake under the stars.” 

Yusuke’s face goes faintly pink. “Not many stars here in the city,” he says, half-breathless, but he follows Ryuji off the train and out into the park anyway. 

Ryuji sprawls on the grass next to the lake and immediately regrets it, the dew soaking his back and legs in an instant. He doesn’t get up, though. Yusuke puts down his own coat and sits primly on it, the asshole. 

“‘S beautiful,” Ryuji says. Yusuke nods. “You’re not going to sketch it?” 

Yusuke shakes his head, looking gently over at him. “For once, I’d rather be in the moment,” he says quietly, and Ryuji loves him.

“Hey,” Ryuji says. “I really am tryin’, with the art stuff. Doesn’t come easily to me, ‘n I know it must be annoying havin’ to explain the same shit to me all the time, but I–”

“It’s not annoying,” Yusuke cuts in. “It… means more to me than I can say. I treasure your effort more than I would your immediate understanding or inherent knowledge, Ryuji.” 

Ryuji feels his face heat up. “It’s not that big a deal,” he mumbles. 

“It is to me,” Yusuke says. And it really is that simple, isn’t it?

Ryuji sits up, takes one of Yusuke’s hands in his. “You have nice hands,” Ryuji says. He looks down at his own, thinks back to all the times he’d compared them, thought how the differences between them ran so deep they showed even in their very flesh.

“Thank you,” Yusuke says pleasantly, “they have carpal tunnel.”

Ryuji stares at him. “What?” 

“My hands.” He holds the other one up, turns it back and forth as if to show Ryuji what a hand is. “Ren’s doctor friend says I have carpal tunnel. It’s a repetitive strain injury; apparently I spend too much time doing detail work.” 

Ryuji can’t help it; he starts laughing. He laughs and laughs. He hadn’t known that, but he feels like perhaps he should have; these days every part of Yusuke seems designed to challenge Ryuji’s assumptions. He leans closer, places a hand on Yusuke’s knee. Yusuke’s breath hitches, his gaze flickering down to Ryuji’s mouth. 

Yusuke says, breathlessly, “Ryuji –” 

“I love you,” Ryuji says. “I’m sorry it took me so long to figure out.” 

He closes the gap between them. Yusuke’s lips are chapped and he makes a surprised, desperate sound in the back of his throat before surging forward, cupping his hands around Ryuji’s face. Ryuji buries his free hand in Yusuke’s soft hair. It’s a little bit awkward but it’s also a little perfect. 

Ryuji pulls back. Yusuke is looking at him like he can’t quite believe he’s real. 

“Are– are you sure? Ryuji, please, I don’t – if this is you feeling sorry for me, or you’ve convinced yourself–”

Yusuke sounds frantic, terrified. Ryuji feels a pang of guilt. “It’s not,” he says. “I really like you. I– I love you. I was just… scared, I think.” 

Yusuke presses closer to him, knocks their foreheads together and closes his eyes, fumbling to grab one of his hands. “Scared?” 

“We’re so different. I– couldn’t let myself see that I liked you, because I didn’t want this to be another thing I ruined because I was too stupid to keep it.” 

“Ryuji,” Yusuke says. He presses a kiss to Ryuji’s temple, his cheek, the corner of his mouth. “You _aren’t_ stupid. You’re one of the most emotionally intelligent and spatially aware people I know.”

“Spatially aware?” Ryuji huffs a laugh. “Definitely one of the top ten weirdest compliments I’ve gotten.”

Yusuke pouts. It’s… kind of adorable. “I mean it seriously. It’s an incredible skill. You’re incredible, Ryuji. School failed you, and continues to fail you, but that isn’t your fault.”

Ryuji suddenly finds himself blinking back tears again. “Yusuke…” 

“I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel inadequate, Ryuji. I want – I want to work on this with you. To be with you. If…” He looks away, almost shy in a way Ryuji’s never known Yusuke to be, “If you’ll have me, that is.” 

Ryuji’s eyes widen. “Uh, yeah? Um, shit, I thought I was being clear. I want you to be my boyfriend. Just so you know.” 

Yusuke laughs quietly. “I would like that,” he says. 

They sit together on the side of the lake for long enough that when Ryuji next checks his phone, it’s well past the last train. Ryuji texts his mom and gets her to pick them both up, diligently avoids her bright, impish grin the whole drive to Kosei. 

“I am in your debt, Sakamoto-san,” Yusuke says with a bow when they drop him off. “Ryuji, I’ll… text you?” He sounds hopeful, in a way he shouldn’t have to anymore. Ryuji grins at him in response, just so he knows he absolutely should text, and is rewarded with a gentle smile. 

They pull out of the Kosei parking lot. After a moment, his mom says, “I’m glad you figured it out, Ryu.” 

(Ryuji’s glad, too.)

**Author's Note:**

> i love comments i eat them for power <3
> 
> come say hi to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/exbeekeeper)!!!


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